Issue 4 proto
For some peculiar reason, Jim felt as though he was being watched. He'd never been superstitious, so he carried on anyway, but it still made him uneasy. Very uneasy, considering what he was doing. After all, when you're a care worker, it's hard to explain why you're rifling through your drawers for a revolver. He'd never liked the thing, but could never get rid of it, as much as he wanted to. It was his father's gun, from World War 2, a battered old Enfield six gun that had seen action all over the place. It had been his father's dying wish that he keep the gun, no matter what tried to take it from him, and so he did. Jim was a man of his word, even if at times he loathed his word and everything it stood for. He needed the gun because Harriet had disappeared yesterday, and he was going to find her. Lawson said that he'd seen her leave, but he didn't trust Lawson one bit. Even if that prick was telling the truth, she was still out there on her own, and he wasn't going to leave her with those things. She was family, and family mattered more than anything to him. On top of all that, someone needed to go out there and find food. It would be lunacy to do either of those jobs, finding Harriet or finding food, without a weapon. "And it'd also be lunacy to ask Lawson to let us go without a weapon" he added with a whisper. He wasn't the only one who'd noticed Lawson's odd behaviour either; Claire had seen it, and he'd heard Lance tell Anton about how Lawson hadn't slept in three days. He gave the drawer a shove and it fell back into place. that was the last one, and still there was no gun to be seen. He just prayed to God that no one had taken it... "Well that's just stupid..." he muttered to himself. "If there was a God, that bloody gun wouldn't even exist in the first place." Part of him hoped that no one would find it, or even worse, use it. ----- "I am a question to the world, '' ''Not an answer to be heard '' ''a moment that's held in your arms. '' ''And what do you think you'd ever say? '' ''I won't listen anyway… '' ''You don't know me, '' ''And I’ll never be what you want me to be." '' Carson was struck by the beauty of it all. The beauty of the words, the beauty of the voice singing them, the beauty of how something so wonderful could exist in such a hopeless time. He'd been crouched outside of Lilly's door for ten minutes now, listening to her play, losing himself in her voice. ''"And what do you think you'd understand? '' ''I'm a boy, no, I'm a man.. '' ''You can't take me and throw me away. '' ''And how can you learn what's never shown? '' ''Yeah, you stand here on your own. '' ''They don't know me 'cause I'm not here." '' He dared to peep through the keyhole, as if he were some sort of spy in a children's cartoon, just to see her. She was sitting on her bed with a guitar across her body, her fingers red from strumming it. Her eyes were closed and her face contorted with an emotion that he simply couldn't describe. It was a cocktail of fury, pain and passion; and as he admired her beautiful face, he could see that tears were streaming down it. ''"And I want a moment to be real, '' ''Wanna touch things I don't feel, '' ''Wanna hold on and feel I belong. '' ''And how can the world want me to change? '' ''They’re the ones that stay the same. '' ''They don’t know me, '' '''Cause I’m not here." '' Carson couldn't help himself. He couldn't bear to watch her crying like that, he had to comfort her, even though she'd probably just swear at him and make him leave. "Lilly...are you okay?" he asked in a quiet voice as he opened the door. As soon as she saw him she stopped playing, wiped her eyes, and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" "I-uh...well..." Carson stammered, not knowing what to say. "Ah, I'm just fucking with ya." Lilly smirked. "Now come, sit, lay down your weary arse" she said, gesturing him to perch on the bed next to her. When he did so, she wrapped an arm around him. "So, you wanna know what's got me all emotional, right?" "Yeah, that's pretty much it" he smiled back. If he weren't so good at hiding his emotions, he'd have no doubt blushed. There was just something about her touch that made everything feel better. 'Well, we're gonna play a game Carey-" "Don't call me that." "Oh alright...spoilsport..." Lilly muttered under her breath, before continuing. "Anyway, ''Carson, we're gonna play a game. We take it in turns to ask questions, because I'm not answering everything for nothing. That fair?" "Sounds like it. Mind if I go first though?" "Shoot." "Well, like I asked earlier, why were you so upset?" Carson almost hesitated. Despite his curiosity, part of him didn't want to know what could reduce a girl as tough as Lilly to tears. "Well, you know about me living on the streets, right?" she began. "Oh, of course you do, everyone knows. Anyway, one of my closest friend was a girl called Alexis. By all accounts, it should never have worked. I was a fourteen year old girl, she was a twenty one year old hooker. But it did work...in a way. We got close, really close. Even when they brought me here, me and Lexi stayed in touch. At the end of last year, we went to the cinema together for her birthday. Went to see Treasure Planet, it was stupid but she had a thing for Disney films." Lilly wiped a tear from her eye and then continued. "The song I was singing just now...it was like, the theme song for the movie...and when I heard it that first time, something clicked. The lyrics are mine, it's as though the singer had written a song about me and her...and when we both realised that, we kissed for the first time. I was in love for the first time. And...and now..." "And now you're worried that she isn't safe..." Carson added, guessing the end of her story. He reached to put a hand on her shoulder, but she swatted it away. "No...there's nothing to worry about now..." Again, Lilly wiped her face. She seemed determined that her friend wouldn't see her cry. "What do you mean?" he asked. "She was murdered a few months ago...that Greensleeves bastard..." "Jesus Lilly, I'm sorr-" "What've you got to be sorry for?"" she said with a slight smile. "Y'know, I've never understood why people say that...anyway, where was I? Oh yeah...Greensleeves..." "Yeah..." Carson replied, not knowing what else to say. He noticed that the sadness on her face had been replaced by anger; anger at the infamously faceless killer who had taken away one of the most important people in her life. "Remember when I ran away a few months ago? I'd seen her picture on the news that morning, and I knew that the others would need me. When I got there, cops were all over the place, quizzing everyone. The detectives tried their hardest, some bloke called Brod-something was running the show, but no one really cared except him. She was just some homeless slut, she didn't have a family, or so they said. You could even see it in the papers, she barely even got any coverage. The others had families to do interviews for them, lovers and parents and children. Lexi just had us, an underage girlfriend and a small gang of homeless drunkards. Why on earth would anyone care about her?" "You cared about her, didn't you? Why wouldn't they put you in the papers?" "Because then she'd be seen as a paedophile on top of being homeless and an addict and a whore. I told that detective guy the whole truth, and he kept my fling with Lexi secret. Maybe that was why he cared so much...because he knew that she had family just like the others. Most people forget that about street rats, they just see them as Big Issue wielding pests, not as people. This Brod-guy...I think it was Brodmir...anyway, he didn't think that. He promised that he'd treat her like the others, with the respect that she deserved. He never had the chance, got taken off the case soon after. The next victim was his own daughter, poor guy was barred from the whole investigation. He didn't deserve any of that...he was a good man..." "Sounds like it..." Carson said, taken aback by the tragedy of it all. How could Lilly even carry on after that? Well...he knew the answer...they'd all gone through horrible situations...they'd all lived brutally cruel lives...or else they'd be at home with their parents, not in Marshwood. "So..." Lilly said, suddenly perking up. "Let's forget about that...no literally, we're not gonna talk about that ever again. Ever. Anyways, my turn." "Uh-ye-yeah sure..." Carson stuttered, shocked at how easily Lilly had changed her mood. In hindsight, he wished that he'd never agreed to this game. He wished that for both their sakes, as he knew what question was coming. "Why do you hate being called Carey so much?" she asked. And there it was, the question that he'd been dreading. He didn't want to answer it, in truth he wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but he couldn't. Now that Lilly had opened herself up to him like that, the first time he'd ever seen her be emotional, he had to tell her. It would hurt him so much, but he had to. But even though he had to, he couldn't. "That-well, that's a story for another day." he finished, finally managing to turn off his own waterworks. He stood, walked outside, closed the door, and fell to the ground. Curled up against the wall, he began to cry. And then she started singing again, and everything was good again. His world was bright, and he could forget about everything. He could once again lose himself in her voice. "And you see the things they never see '' ''All you wanted, I could be '' ''Now you know me, and I'm not afraid '' ''And I wanna tell you who I am '' ''Can you help me be a man? '' ''They can't break me '' ''As long as I know who I am '' ''And I want a moment to be real, '' ''Wanna touch things I don't feel, '' ''Wanna hold on and feel I belong. '' ''And how can the world want me to change? '' ''They’re the ones that stay the same. '' ''They can’t see me, '' ''But I’m still here. '' ''They can’t tell me who to be, '' ''‘Cause I’m not what they see. '' ''Yeah, the world is still sleepin’, '' ''While I keep on dreamin’ for me. '' ''And their words are just whispers '' ''And lies that I’ll never believe. '' ''And I want a moment to be real, '' ''Wanna touch things I don't feel, '' ''Wanna hold on and feel I belong. '' ''And how can they say I never change? '' ''They’re the ones that stay the same. '' ''I’m the one now, '' ''‘Cause I’m still here. '' ''I’m the one, '' ''‘Cause I’m still here. '' ''I’m still here. '' ''I’m still here. '' ''I’m still here." '' God, he missed his little brother so much... ----- "Can I come in?" Jim asked as he knocked on the door to Lawson's office. It was a heavy old thing with a snakelike shape embossed around the edge of the dark wood, which he considered to be rather appropriate considering who sat on the other side of it. "Enter" Lawson shouted through the door. Not wanting to annoy his already irritable boss, Jim immediately turned the brass handle and entered. Lawson was sitting on a cheap blue swivel chair behind his oaken desk, but facing the wall. At the sound of Jim locking the door, Lawson spun to face him. Jim was half expecting to see a cat on his lap and hear a chuckle of ''"I've been expecting you, Mister Bond.." "What can I do for you, Jim?" Lawson asked as he examined a beige file that was sitting on his desk. He obviously cared little about why Jim was there, so was content to sit and read paperwork while he listened. "Anthony, please, can I have your attention?" Jim asked him. "This really is important." "Alright then, but be quick..." Lawson frowned, annoyed by Jim's urging. "We're running out of food, and fast. We need to send a scouting group into the city, to find out what's going on and get some food. And not to mention, get Harriet back..." "Don't be stupid Jim, the army will be here tomorrow, we'll be fine. End of discussion." "We're doing a supply run Anthony" Jim told him. "It's non-negotiable." "And who's going on this mission? You? The old biddy brigade?" "Claire and me are going to lead it, hopefully with Lilly, Lance and Carson tagging along." "The kids? You're going to risk the kids?" "I'd rather risk them this way than knowingly starve them, Anthony. At least they have a chance of surviving this way, and Harriet might too. If you feel so bad, why don't you come with us?" Jim knew that he'd just crossed the line, but to be frank, he was quite proud of it... He was already prepared for Lawson's tirade. "WHAT?!" Lawson snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm busy running this place. If you're not going to tell me then get out, I don't have time for this." The scowl on his face showed just how much he detested Jim's interruption. "That's it Anthony, that's exactly it. If you don't listen to me, you won't have a care home to run any more..." "And what's that supposed to mean? Are you gonna take over? Harriet? Jane's corpse? Your slag of a granddaughter?" Lawson stood up as he began to rant and rave at Jim, spitting slightly. "What did you just say about Claire?" Jim seethed. He didn't often get angry, but this time he was livid. Claire was out there comforting the kids, and helping things get done, while Lawson sat in his office doing paperwork. "I called her a slag. How many boyfriends has she had since she's worked here? Five? Six? She probably sleeps with everyone else too, I bet Carson's had a g-" "Anthony Lawson, boss, I've been wanting to say this for nineteen bloody years. You can take your paperwork, take your pettiness, take your overinflated sense of self-worth; and shove them up your fat, arrogant, interfering arsehole!" Jim stood, turned on the spot and moved to open the door. "I wouldn't do that if I were you Jim..." "Anthony" Jim growled, furious at Lawson's nerve, lost it like he never had before. "GO FUCK YOURSELF!" "Look at my hand..." Lawson responded with an almost creepy calmness. Jim didn't know why, but something compelled him to turn around. As he moved to face Lawson, his eyes widened immediately. His boss was now standing directly behind him, but that wasn't the scariest part. He was far more terrified of what Lawson had in his hand. "W-w-where did you get that?" Jim stammered, pressed back against the door in fright." "We both know where I got it Jim...it was under your bed..." As if to illustrate his point, Lawson pointed at the ceiling above, the floor of Jim's room. He didn't use his finger to point, but rather the barrel of the revolver in his hand. With nothing left to lose, Jim lunged for the gun. -----